Kaelen had sent a raven the week prior—Heliath and Roltier were both now under his banner. A battle had broken out at Roltier, with Kaelen emerging victorious, but beyond that, I knew little. Saelow had most likely fled again, I thought.
Kaelen was already halfway back when he sent the raven. I had wasted no time. The castle was cleaned from top to bottom. All the carpets and tapestries were taken down, shaken out, and replaced. The stone floors were scrubbed until they gleamed. The staircases, the halls, even the libraries got a thorough dusting. Every inch of Aureliath was to shine for his return.
I declared there would be a ball to celebrate the victory. I had written the invitations myself—though they were not yet sent—and chosen the menu with care. The modiste was already at work on a new dress for me, as well as a tailored suit for Kaelen. The entire castle buzzed with preparation.
"The musicians will be rehearsing in the grand hall today," Emelia said, walking beside me as I chose the flower arrangements for the entryway.
"The cook also wants to know—should we go with elderberry sauce to accompany the roasted pheasant?" asked Friya, trailing just behind us. "Or would a red currant glaze be better?"
"Elderberry seems best. I never really had a taste for red currant," I replied, then paused. "Wait—ask the cook what Kaelen prefers, and get back to me."
"Right away," chirped Friya, darting off.
"The calligrapher is nearly done with the place cards," Emelia added. "They'll be ready soon."
"Make sure they dry properly. There's nothing worse than smudged ink," I said, brushing a curl from my cheek.
"They'll be perfect," Emelia smirked.
I glanced at the tall grandfather clock standing against the far wall. It was almost noon. Still no sign of them.
While I was excited to have Kaelen back, a strange anxiety had crept into me. How was I supposed to greet him? A handshake? A pat on the back? A "good job" thumbs-up from a distance?
"They're here!" someone shouted, breaking through my swirling thoughts.
My feet moved before I could think, carrying me swiftly through the corridors and down the stairs. A small crowd had already formed by the great doors. I made my way to the front just as Kaelen came into view, seated high on horseback.
I stepped forward as he dismounted. His eyes were warm, that infuriating grin still curved on his lips. A thick beard covered his face now, and his hair had grown wild around his shoulders.
"I hope Kaelen is somewhere under all that scruff and hair," I teased, raising a brow.
"Hello to you too," he said with a shrug.
"I'm glad you're home." I placed a hand over his heart.
"So am I," he replied, covering my hand with his own.
I stepped aside to let the rest of his council greet him. My eyes found Harlin among the returning group.
"Harlin—you're back," I said warmly. "I'm so glad to see you."
"Not as glad as I am, my queen. These old bones weren't made for long campaigns."
But something else caught my eye. A peculiar carriage—its windows barred with iron and covered by a heavy cloth—stood apart from the rest.
"Harlin," I asked slowly, "what is that?"
A shadow passed over his face.
"It's best you speak with the Lord Commander."
No.
It can't be.
A wave of nausea hit me. I turned sharply and hurried back into the castle.
"Nyriane!" Kaelen called after me.
I didn't stop. I closed my eyes, trying to silence the pounding in my chest.
"Tell me it isn't him," I whispered, refusing to turn around.
Kaelen's voice was gentle behind me. "Nyriane."
I turned, dizzy with dread.
"It's him," he said quietly, cupping my face. "We've treated him kindly. No harm has come to him."
My knees nearly gave way. "What now?" I asked, the words breaking on a sob. "What happens after this?"
"For now, he'll remain in the dungeons," Kaelen said, his expression grave. "But at some point, he'll have to stand trial—for the attack on Caerthrone."
For which he is guilty.
"Kaelen…" I shook my head, tears streaming. "He's my brother. He's all I have left."
"I'll do what I can," he said softly. "I'll delay the trial. That's all I can promise. But the people will decide."
I collapsed into his chest, shaking. I knew it was foolish—after everything Saelow had done, all the cruelty and chaos he'd caused. Still, I begged for mercy.